Places
by Shyguy1
Summary: an interpretive piece on all the places we find solitude,even the heroes.


Places:

At the end of the day, each and every one of them had a place, a niche, a fortress of solitude. And when their journey lead them through dangerous waters, that solitude would be the one thing they seeked when they returned home.

For Beast Boy, it was the beach. The point where waves met rocks. That place where two forces of nature collided. If he were a poetic person, he would think on how it was so ironic that such a battle of wills could be so beautiful. The whimsical waves, washing wherever they may, lapping against the dark rocks, solid and stoic and unrelenting. He might find it humorous that such diversity could be so peaceful, that this point of such a clash, could bring him so much peace, that it could clear his mind.

He might even wonder if ever the sea could find peace with the land, or the land relent to the sea. That they would one day bend to each other and come together in such a way that would be indescribably amazing. But alas, he is not poetic. He is not a philosopher of the modern age. For him it was a quiet, thoughtful sort of spot that he enjoyed. He liked the sound of the waves and the smell of the sea. He liked to gaze off to the sunset and let the waves wash away his troubles, at least for now.

For Starfire, she was naturally drawn to the kitchen. Not from some basist instinct of woman, for those instincts are only myths at best, but rather for comfort. It brought her unrelenting joy to be immersed in one of earth's finer arts. It reminded her of her first pizza, and that first sip of mustard. It was a reminder of how these earthlings had so generously, so kindly brought her in and shared all that they had. It reminded her of the vast culture they had shared and encouraged her to share in turn. True, her friends often "misplaced their hunger" when she cooked, but she was simply happy to share some part of her life with them.

She gleaned so much comfort from the cold metal utensils. Using them to bring together her two lives, Earth and Tamaran, was truly an art form to her. When the day was long or the road hard, her silverware still shown, her pots still gleamed, and the counters still sparkled. And though they were cold to the touch, they soon warmed in her hands, and that was all she needed.

Raven had wandered all her time on Earth. The Titans were her first real family, a family not born of deceit and lies. So she reveled in that one portion where they were all a family. True, she did not like to open up emotionally, but in the main hub of the tower, one didn't need to. Though her room was dark, she loved to feel the sunlight on her skin as it arose each and every morning. She would often meditate while basking in its glow. She would often look from high upon her precipice, from the monolithic tower to the glowing harbor that too basked in the suns light.

It was not something people often accused her of, having a sunny attitude, or even having gotten a lot of sun. But she found she had a strange connection with it. It was so bright and cheerful, and though often of no real use to anyone, she still found that the world wouldn't turn without it. And so, whether through books, meditation, or by simply sitting, Raven enjoyed the sun and the family room. Distant yet attached. Cold yet caring. She enjoyed the family room because it was the warm sunny spot where they all gathered and where she could be reminded that she was indeed, "never alone" and that was all she ever wanted.

It's no surprise that Cyborg escaped to the garage. Many think it's simply because of his skills, others say because of some odd companionship he feels with the many gadgets and gizmos that litter the room. Truthfully, it's because it makes him feel more human. To him, building these soulless machines only proves that he has a soul to begin with. He sees it in the artistic detail he places in things, whether it be the T-Car or his own servos. No computer could comprehend adding trim, or Leather seats vs. Fabric. It helped to remind him through all walks of life that he was only half machine, only half in-human, only half a monster.

So he crafted things in his garage. He oiled and spit-shined and greased everything to its peak only to oil and grease and spit-shine some more.

And finally Robin. The most enigmatic of the group. The only one whose identity was truly kept a secret. He found sanctuary deep in file upon file looking for answers and plotting courses and devising counter-attacks. It was in his evidence room where pictures of Slade adorned the wall and a file on every villain covering every subject down to the wart on Mumbo's nose. He loved the feeling of doing good in the world, of getting something done. If there wasn't a case to work, then who was he other than some punk kid running around in tights. When he fought crime, when he helped those in need, that is where he truly escaped.

It was in this way that he differed from his mentor, that he strayed from the Dark Knight's persona. While Batman was the guardian of Gotham, Robin was actively a Titan. Where The Dark Knight simply watched for trouble to strike, methodically catching criminals and undermining masterminds, Robin worked to find the next crime, to stop it before it started. It was amidst these plans that he often found himself, lonely for all the world, yet surrounded by the many people he had saved and there still the whisper that he hadn't done enough, hadn't filled the shoes, or the ears for that matter.

And yet, he wasn't deterred. He soldiered on. And so he was in the evidence room, trying to find that one lead that would solve everything, that one solid clue that would lead him to his answers. And that was his peace.

All the Titans had a place to call their own. A niche of their own. And when a storm washed into their lives, they could always be counted on to return to that one place of solitude. But these spots where never lonely. A wandering Starfire picked up meditation in the common room. A caring Raven alighted upon the rocks to comfort a friend. A young Robin picked up a wrench to work along. Because they all had a place in the tower, and within each other's hearts.


End file.
